For each brightly colored but toxic caterpillar, tree frog, and sea slug
now safely feeding in conspicuous consumption,
another is mauled.
Half of their kind pays the tuition for the other half,
for the lessons learned by their fierce pursuers.
The sacrificed half becomes the refuse
spit out from predators’ retching mouths,
so the other half can dress for dinner and dine in peace
without paying the bill.
Even a human sniffle today is a winnowing
from our ancestors’ deadly plagues.
Death is a busy green-thumbed gardener.
Behold death has pruned the tree of life,
sheared it of almost all branches except
we bitter fruits dangling on half-bare twigs.